


Routine

by AutisticSocks



Series: Autistic Jonathan Reid [2]
Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Autism, Autistic Jonathan Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Routine, Stimming, autistic author, autistic headcanon, no beta we die like men, would this be fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticSocks/pseuds/AutisticSocks
Summary: Jonathan struggles with how his body responds to his routine, upset he goes to Elisabeth for comfort.
Series: Autistic Jonathan Reid [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079936
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning paragraphs seem out of place bc this was originally gonna be a different fic but I'm keeping them because they explain why he acts the way he does throughout the fic.
> 
> Also YES that is the route I take in game to get to Whitechapel. Yes I ordered his interactions with the citizens in the order of where they are when coming from that direction.

Since becoming an Ekon Jonathan has found it to be increasingly more difficult to withhold himself from exerting any pent up energy and the need to counteract certain noises or textures with physical movement of some kind. When he was human, this self-regulating behaviour was easy enough to avoid doing in public or around those who did not know him. He hadn’t been scolded for it, no, he simply felt it was invasive for those around him, something only for him and those he can trust. Now though he would catch himself doing such things subconsciously, like curling and tapping his fingers in the palm of his hand while walking through the halls of the brightly lit halls of the hospital, or minute shakes and jerks of his head in response to a particularly grating noise occasionally accompanied by the flapping of his hands depending on the volume or proximity of the noise. Moreover, he found that trying to withhold from doing these small actions was..painful. To a degree, of course. And it didn’t necessarily bother him that he had these impulses, rather he was worried they would cause grief for either him or the general public around him. The last thing he wanted was to be seen as bothersome when all he wanted to do was help- albeit to a fault but he cared so much even for those that seemed to hate him for just existing as he is. 

As it were now he was making his way from Pembroke to Whitechapel, going through the cemetery rather than another way there; it was simply easier to avoid Priwen guards like this, travelling through dilapidated houses and hiding in the shadows. Were it different- were he human, he’d ask if they need help or if they’ve any recent news of nearby districts, but he wasn’t human and they were vampire hunters. For now he kept his distance, listening closely when they were near, ready to aid them in a fight should they need the assistance or offer his medical help to those injured in a previous fight; vampire hunters or not they were human, he had an oath to uphold even as an Ekon, he was a doctor first and foremost. He didn’t understand why things had to be this way, but vampire and hunter alike were adamant that it had to be, obscure reasoning that was lost on Jonathan entirely.

He swiftly made his way through the cemetery, avoiding Skal and Priwen alike, not looking for a fight tonight. Getting around the Chaplain on this side of the Whitechapel gate was usually tricky, but if he was being honest, he preferred it this way, knowing that the people within the district were safe from unwanted and unsightly intruders. He made it inside without stirring a ruckus, giving a small nod to the Priwen cadet who looked at him as he came out of the shadows upon moving past the gate; though he would hope this wasn't an unusual sight to report for them as this was how he usually went about getting here. Rarely did he go about it any other way, this was his route, part of his routine in checking in on districts; having to go any other way always left him upset or feeling like something was off..missing. But he need not fret about that now, so far tonight his routine was carrying out as it should with as little interruption as possible.

After making it through the gate, he promptly stopped by Camellia’s shop to check in on her, offer his help should she need it.   
Following this, he went across the street to the cemetery behind the church to see Mr. Nithercott, give him the usual prescription of cold medicine and advise him to move his writing indoors for the coming months lest he become seriously ill.   
Next he saw Mr. Darby and Ms. Popa, asking about recent news of the district and giving them each a dose of medicine for fatigue, wishing them well before moving on.   
Though he dreaded speaking to the man, Father Whitaker was still a possible patient so enduring some rhetoric from the man was worthwhile to make sure he stayed healthy- even with his twisted views and past crimes, human was human.   
A short walk away from the church and he happily heard the bickering between Mr. Peterson and Mr. Lewis, asking if they’ve any news of recent events in the area, taking a look at what Mr. Lewis had to offer before turning away and knocking on the door just across the street from them. He smiled warmly as Harry opened the door, seeing that he was well is all he needed, wishing him a pleasant night and leaving him be.   
Again, dreading his next could-be patient, he made his way up the alley and greeted a lone Mr. Bates, only chatting long enough to tell him to be well and quickly walking away.   
He was going to walk down the way to Ms. Swanborough, but stopped to walk down the stairs and around the corner, smiling as he found Hsaio Shun. He was always happy to speak with her, a familiar soul in what they’ve gone through with grief, she was a pleasant person to be around as always.   
He wished her well before making his way up the short flight of stairs and approaching Ms. Swanborough, taking a look at the medicines she had on offer and asking how her brother was and to send his best regards.   
Then came another familiar soul, damaged by war and loss as he was, Mr. Palmer. He gave him a prescription of migraine medicine and advised against his alcohol consumption before turning his attention to the man’s son. He greeted Albert, the boy had an attitude as ever but it filled Jonathan with hope for the boy, he still had his spark even in dire situations.   
He bid him farewell and turned back, making his way to Mr. Petrescu’s door. He knocked the rhythm he always did and waited for the man to answer, following him inside when the door opened. They spoke briefly about how things were doing in Whitechapel as a whole, then giving him medicine to help ease his cough and thanking him for his time before he made his way to the building in the back.  
He needn't an invitation in, having an open invitation from Dorothy. He checked over the patients downstairs before heading up, greeting Dorothy with warm regards and asking if she needed help. He left only when he was dismissed, leaving through the gates to the right and walking down the street to the white wooden doors that led to the West End district.

He lightly flapped his hands at his sides when out of line-of-sight, stopping in front of the doors for a moment just to really flap his hands before pushing them open and making quick work of getting past Priwen stationed there, hiding in the shadows until he walked through the quarantine fence that was still posted up for public safety. Naturally the first sounds to greet him as he entered was Charlotte Ashbury’s voice of protest and Clarence knocking at a door down the street, he could even hear Mr. Calhoon talking to himself in his shop. He didn’t think Whitechapel had been that taxing, but apparently his senses thought differently being on high alert as they were. He drew an unnecessarily deep breath and sighed, fighting the urge to flap his hands or curl his fingers into his palms as he walked down the street. He gave a nod to Charlotte as he passed, offering a brief smile to Mr. Calhoon as he exited his shop, counting his steps inside his head in an attempt to calm his nerves as he made his way to his childhood home. 

Upon entering and closing the door behind himself he sagged into it, resting his head roughly against it with a pained sigh, eyes closed as he vigorously flapped his hands in front of his abdomen. He stayed like this for maybe five (5) minutes before he opened his eyes, not surprised to see a mildly concerned Avery standing a few feet away, gazing at him with sympathetic eyes. Jonathan gave a tired but genuine smile to the man, “I’m alright, Avery. Thank you.” Avery didn’t need to speak for Jonathan to know he was waiting on stand-by, ready to help if Jonathan needed it, he wondered for a moment if he didn’t get his attentive nature from him. Giving an abrupt nod, Avery carried on into foyer, leaving Jonathan by himself. He sighed again, lightly, before pushing himself away from the door and making his way up the stairs to his bedroom.

Shutting his door, he thought about what he was going to do with the rest of his night; sure, he could continue his rounds but if his nerves and senses were more frazzled than they felt it wasn’t worth causing himself to have a meltdown that could be avoided. He didn’t want to just sit inside doing nothing as he waited for the rising of the sun to put him to sleep either. If he knew for sure that Elisabeth were home he’d go visit with her for the time being, she was someone he trusted, he knew she’d never judge him for what he needs to do. He could go ask Charlotte if her mother was home, but she may not know so it wasn’t worth the undue stimulation from outside. He hated that he couldn’t know for sure, he dreaded the way it ached, that his ignorance to his senses had just crashed his plans for the evening, why couldn’t he just-

He opened his eyes, his train of thought coming to a halt as he slowly removed his hands from his hair, lightly feeling his face to find he had indeed started crying. “Well.. That’s one way to spiral,” he chuckles to himself as he wipes the blood tears off his face, stepping to the mirror in his room and recomposing himself. If he was going to get this upset over it, he may as well take the risk of Elisabeth not being home, a walk would do him good- or at least help him feel better emotionally, perhaps not physically. Mind made up, he opened his door and walked back down stairs, stepping out the front door. He stood on the top stair a moment, taking a deep breath in and out before he stepped down and began walking down the street in that direction. 

“Good evening, Dr. Reid,” Charlotte stops him on her corner, “I’m glad I caught you, my mother has been asking about you. You should pay her a visit, for the both of our sakes,” she laughs through her last statement, the sound surprisingly warm in Jonathan’s ears. He can’t help but chuckle with her, “I was just heading that way actually. Thank you for letting me know though, Charlotte. I’d best be on my way then,” he smiles, small but it feels genuine. “Of course, never wise to keep a woman waiting. Be well, Dr. Reid, tell mother I say, ‘hello,’ for me,” She waves her goodbye to him as he continues his walk. He can hear her resume her feminist chants, causing him to smile to himself, “Just like her mother,” he thinks fondly. He gives a salute to Clarence as he walks past, the man pauses his rantings to return the salute before he carries on. 

The walk is uneventful, or as uneventful as a walk in the middle of the during a fading epidemic can be. He has to avoid a few Priwen guards in the short distance between the West End and the Ashbury Mansion, but he doesn’t mind it. He approached the Mansion, lightly using his Ekon sense to check the Lady was in. Happy to see she was, he finally stepped up to the door and knocked. Not two (2) seconds later, Elisabeth was there opening the door, “Jonathan! Please, do come in,” she says in that same soft spoken voice, the voice of a mother. “Good evening, Elisabeth, I hope I’ve not disturbed you terribly,” he says as he enters, following her into the living- ha!- area where there was already a kettle of fresh tea. “Nonsense, my dear Jonathan, you could do no such thing. I’ll always have time for you,” she says with a fond smile and slight tilt of her head; he’d never say anything about it, but he can always tell when she was being honest because she will tilt her head just slightly, something Jonathan had begun mimicking without realizing it.

They sat down in their separate chairs, she poured their tea into cups and plated them before handing one to Jonathan; he wasn’t sure if she knew just how much the predictability of this action meant to him, but regardless it was greatly appreciated. They shared a sniff of the tea; it smelled like warmth and honey, but it wasn’t overwhelming. No, it helped settle Jonathan’s frayed nerves like a balm to a fresh suture, it was pleasant. He smiled for a moment as he set the items on the table between them, Elisabeth setting hers down shortly after he had. She crossed her hands in her lap as she looked over to him with all the care and patience only a mother could possess, “How have you been, Jonathan?” 

“I’ve been… well,” he pauses, his eyes cast to the table as he thought about the answer he wanted to give, “I suppose better than one might expect, but I.. I don’t think I’ve been paying myself enough attention, if that makes sense?” He was grateful that she didn’t expect extravagant answers or stories, he was free to take his time, free to think out loud if he was so inclined. Elisabeth sat and listened, giving a subtle nod to his statement, “Yes, it does. It’s easy to forget our own needs, being Ekon. I won’t pry, but do you wish to share more?” Always so delicate, careful when she needn’t be. Jonathan meant it when he’d told her the world would be better if it were cared for by women like her. He sat in thought for a moment, taking a breath as he started curling his fingers into his palm on one hand, “I.. It seems I haven't been..aware enough of my..body? I don’t realize things are too much until it’s too late. It...It leaves me feeling raw. Before becoming..this..I was rather diligent in making sure this didn’t happen.” It was difficult to speak about what was happening to him when he didn’t fully understand it himself. He’d hope it made any sense for her Ladyship as it made very little sense to him.

He spared a glance to her face as he waited for her response, she retained her smile even when the topic at hand felt like it should be heavy, disheartening in some way- at least that’s how Jonathan perceived it. “You may just need time to adapt, my dear. You haven’t had the time to relearn your limits yet, but now you do. I believe that you’ll be able to manage yourself once you’ve taken the time for yourself. Of course, I’ll be here to help you should you want it,” she reached over and lightly rested her hand atop his knee with a gentle squeeze of reassurance. She made a good point, he hadn’t taken the time to really relearn what he could and couldn’t handle, and he certainly didn’t have the time before. He looks at her hand with a barely-there smile, “You are correct in those things, my Lady. I do appreciate your help, I’ll.. I’ll take some time off soon to… relearn my limits, as you put it,” he raised his eyes to look at her for a moment, smiling his appreciation for her advice. 

They continued idly chatting for another thirty (30) minutes or so before Jonathan felt it was time to excuse himself, wishing her well and taking his leave. He stood outside the Mansion for a few moments, deciding what exactly he wanted to do now; he could return to the Pembroke to continue work in place of doing his rounds..but he could also continue doing his rounds. With a confident stride, Jonathan continued walking back to the West End, he would finish his rounds here for the night then return to the Pembroke. A plan in place for the rest of his night, he was satisfied with how it was going despite his brief upset earlier.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
> 
> feedback is appreciated!


End file.
